Chapter 3: Dirty Socks and Soda

POV: Snake Eyes

"THOMAS SUBURU ARASHIKAGE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. Thomas came screeching out of his room, holding a tube of toothpaste. I didn't even take time for a wicked smile when I saw the uneven lumps in it.

"What?" he panted, eyes wide.

I looked at him. "Look at the mess in this hallway!" I said, waving my arms helplessly at the mess of shirts, socks, and jeans strewn all over.

"Is that's what's got you so hot n' bothered?" laughed Thomas, sagging against the doorway.

"For your information, this mess could really hurt someone!" I said, glaring.

"Who? Snake Eyes the American Ninja, or Storm Shadow, the Arashikage Ninja?" Thomas questioned. Obviously, he doubted the truth of my statement. "Come here," I said, motioning with a hand.

"What for?" he asked suspiciously.

"I want to show you something."

"Right," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm serious," I insisted, genuine sincerity shining through my guileless blue eyes.

Thomas came warily forward. I pointed down. And (get this!) he looked down. Idiot. I brought my hand up and hit him flat on the nose. "NEVER LEAVE A MESS LIKE THIS AGAIN!" I shouted.

Thomas was holding his nose with both hands, brown eyes on either side shooting daggers at me.

"If you DO do this again," I threatened, "I will personally twist you inside out! Get it?"

"God id," he managed, the toothpaste thing apparently forgotten.

"Good," I said, spinning on my heel and dumping a load of dirty clothes into the doll-sized washing machine. So, silly me, I thought we were done. But nooooo! You want to know how it went? I'll tell you. AFTER I had done ALL the laundry, I went into my room to relax and possibly do some stretches to loosen up. But as I walked in, I saw a plastic bottle of soda sitting on my nightstand. Soda! I don't drink soda - it's very unhealthy. (Well, don't tell Kamakura, but I actually DO drink Soda. Occasionally. At weddings and stuff. So, yeah.)But still, this green plastic twelve ounce bottle of Sprite was definitely NOT mine. "THOMAS SABURU ARASHIKAGE!" I shouted once more.

Thomas sauntered into the room, a band-aid dramatically plastered across his nose. "Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I pointed viciously at the bottle sitting on MY nightstand.

"Oh, that," he said in an offhanded way. "Yeah."

"Is that all you have to say for yourself? Is there anything else?" I demanded angrily.

"The TV is in your room," he pointed out. I groaned. "Fine. You can watch TV in here. But NO food OR drinks! Savvy?"

"I savvy," he replied, doing his best to look contrite and, um, failing. Really badly.

He turned to go out and I threw the Sprite bottle at him. "And don't do it again!"

"I won't!" he called back.

I forgot that that boy never keeps his promises.